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Ennison paused by the little gate. " "Aye, music hits them. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. He had brought her here to this place—where her freedom was curtailed even more than at the convent so that a cavalier was very much needed—and only on Monday came again. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father.
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